


Under My Protection

by penink



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Guilt and mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Tubbo doesn’t feel anything right?, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), because he’s dead, sam feels responsible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29793513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penink/pseuds/penink
Summary: Sam was responsible for the lives inside of his prison.He wasn't as good at his job as he'd hoped.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	Under My Protection

It’s a mistake. A glitch, surely. That message simply doesn’t make sense. Why would– He wouldn’t actually–

Sam stares at his communicator like somehow the message will change. 

**Tommyinnit was slain by Dream**

“Doesn’t make sense…” he murmurs to no one. He knows he needs to go check, but going to check means it’s real and that’s not an option either. 

Sam thought he knew dread. He thought he understood what it meant to be afraid, but when he approached the main cell he expected to hear Tommy screaming. 

There was only quiet. 

“Tommy? Dream?” Sam spoke over the comms. 

Silence and static pressed in. 

Sam wasn’t supposed to let Tommy out yet. He still didn’t know what caused the breach, but Tommy _wasn’t talking._

“I’m lowering the lava. Dream, stand on the other side of the gate,” Sam hoped Dream couldn’t hear how his voice shook. He hoped he was overthinking things, but Tommyinnit falling silent was a dark omen. Part of him wants to burst out, _Dream if you’ve done anything to Tommy, you’re going to pay. Tommy if you’re screwing with me, it’s not funny. I’m trying my best to get you out of here._

He says none of that. Sam just waits for the lava to lower. It’s the longest five minutes of his life. He watches with bated breath as the lava finally lowers past the entryway. Sam feels like his heart has dropped to his stomach, because he can’t see either of them. Tommy or Dream. 

_They’re sleeping. I can’t see them because they’re sitting below the barrier. It’s fine._

He lowers the barrier. 

“Dream?” Sam shouts across the ravine. 

Dream is standing over something on the floor. There is no one else in the cell. Sam knows he can’t go across, he literally can’t without another guard here, but it’s not like he can’t see it. It’s not like he doesn’t already know what’s waiting there for him. 

“Dream!” Sam is screaming now. “What did you do?!” 

Dream turns around to face him. Even from here Sam can see the blood on his hands. 

“Tommy!” Sam doesn’t know why he shouts for him. He knows Tommy isn’t sleeping. He saw the message. Tommy is dead and that blood is on Dream’s hands. “You… you didn’t,” he stared at Dream, trying to read something behind those cold eyes from this far away. He sees Dream shrug. Sam can see the body, he can see the blood, and Dream just _shrugs._

“Guess you should’ve gotten him out, Sam.” 

_Oh god._

Sam stumbled back, hitting the wall around the corner, out of sight of the cell. 

_You said you were gonna get him out. You promised to protect him. You promised._

Sam didn’t want to think about everything he knew Dream had done to Tommy. So many empty hours spent watching the prison with only Dream for company, he knew how much Dream had hurt him. _You let him go in there alone. You left him in that cell for a week. You were supposed to let him out._

Sam can’t catch his breath. He was supposed to let Tommy out. _You were supposed to let Tommy out yesterday._

Sam feels like the image of Tommy’s crumpled body is pressed onto the inside of his eyelids. 

Sam doesn’t say anything. He needed to bury this. Until his job was done. So he gets to his feet on unsteady legs and he lowers the wall of lava. All he can do is watch as Tommy’s bloodied corpse is left with that monster. He cannot risk letting Dream out, especially not now. 

_How’re we going to have a funeral?_

“O-Oh god– H-He’s dead– fuck, he’s dead–” 

“Mhm. And it’s your fault, right?” Dream sounds utterly calm. “You should’ve stopped me, Sam. You should’ve gotten him out. You know, I wasn’t planning on doing this. Otherwise I would’ve done it at the start of the week, right? He was just so damn _annoying_.” 

Sam turns off the comms. _You need to tell someone._

Sam couldn’t help but think he’d failed. How was _failure_ enough to quantify that a kid was dead and it was his fault? 

He knew telling Tubbo would be the hardest part. It was harder for a different reason. 

“I didn’t think he would actually do it…” 

Tubbo stares at him, his eyes seem just a bit too wide. “He can’t actually be dead,” Tubbo is smiling. It looks more like a grimace. “Come on. Tommy can’t be dead.” 

“Tubbo… I am so sorry.” 

“For _what_ , Sam?” Tubbo laughs, high and hysterical, Ranboo has a hand on his shoulder. “He’s faked his death before. We– We just have to wait! He can’t be dead.” 

“Tubbo…” 

“He _isn’t_ dead,” Tubbo stumbles back, Ranboo keeping him standing. “He’s not!” 

“I am so–” 

“Stop saying that! Y-You’re out here, and Dream is in there, right? A-And if you’re still here, nothing bad could’ve happened to Tommy. I know this.” 

Sam didn’t think this could hurt any worse. 

“How…” Ranboo finally speaks. 

Sam can’t tell him. He can’t say those words, not to them. 

“Y-Yeah, Sam. How’d he die?” Tubbo says it like he’s trying to tell a joke. 

“Dream killed him. He… He beat him to death.” 

Tubbo looks stricken, and for a moment Sam thinks he’s broken through, but Tubbo just shrugs. “That’s horrible.” 

“Tubbo… this isn’t a _joke._ ” Maybe it would be kinder for Sam to leave him in denial, but he knows when it all comes crashing down Tubbo is going to suffer. 

“It’s not true, Sam. It’s not. Y-You would never– You would never let that happen,” Tubbo sounds so sure. 

“I am so sorry. I didn’t think– I didn’t think Dream would–” Sam is trying to keep himself together. This was his responsibility to bear. _You didn’t think Dream would hurt Tommy? You didn’t think he would get that rough? Push that far? After what you’ve heard?_ “It’s my fault.” 

“N-No, it’s Dream’s fault,” Ranboo seems just a bit more present than Tubbo, but even he looks oddly uncomprehending. “This wasn’t you, Sam.” 

“Just wait, Sam. He’ll be back. Last time– Last time it was a matter of days and then he was fine!” Tubbo’s voice still sounds too high. 

“Tubbo… I saw him–” 

“You don’t know what you saw!” Tubbo is still backing away. “Ranboo, come on.” 

“What?” 

“We should… we should get back to work, right?” 

“Tubbo…” 

“We just have to wait,” Tubbo said it again, staring at both of them imploringly, begging them to let him keep his delusion. 

Ranboo turned back to Sam hopelessly. 

“Take care of him,” Sam struggles to get the words out. “I’ll– I’ll–” Sam has nothing to give. There’s nowhere to go from here. 

“Okay,” Ranboo nods anyway before catching up to Tubbo. 

It takes hours for Sam to get Bad there. 

“He… He killed him? Dream did?” Bad struggled with it as much as Sam had. “With… with his _bare hands?_ ” He asks it quietly, like its a cursed thing. 

Sam can only nod. 

“Bad, I just need you to man the bridge while I… while I get Tommy out of there.” 

“Whatever you need,” Bad agrees immediately. 

Sam hadn’t been in the main cell since he’d built it. Dream is leaning against the wall, looking… not quite bored. More so numb. 

Sam isn’t here for him. 

Tommy looks so small, pressed against the back corner of the room, like he’d been kicked there. Sam is glad Dream can’t see his face behind his own mask. Sam doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. It’s hard to be gentle in a full set of armor, but he does what he can, picking Tommy up as carefully as he can. He doesn’t want to look at Tommy’s face. He doesn’t want to think about the blood. 

“Oh, _now_ you take him out of here,” Dream finally speaks. “A bit late, don’t you think?” Dream doesn’t sound smug or guilty or hurt, merely gloomy. 

Sam doesn’t acknowledge him, scared of what he might do if he does. Tommy is cool to the touch. Sam cradles him like he’s still alive enough to care about being jostled from the journey from one grave to another. Sam couldn’t save him, but he could hold him. He could take him home. 

Bad gasps softly when he sees him. Sam knows that Bad wanted Tommy dead, but he never actually killed him. That makes a difference, he supposes. Sam doesn’t want to look at Tommy’s bloody and empty face. Bad’s disturbed shock is more than enough. 

It was too simple. It wasn’t easy– _none_ of this was easy, but it was too simple a way to die. Tommy was always destined for a blaze of glory. That feels like a cruel thought too, because Tommy _wasn’t supposed to die._ Tommy’s body is too small in his arms, because he was _sixteen_. He _was_ sixteen. He wasn’t anything anymore. 

_You did this._

Sam can do nothing to change the past, there is no cure for this kind of guilt. He can only carry Tommy home. 

Tommy’s house is covered in flowers. Sam sees it and it’s like he’s been kicked in the chest. It hurts worse when he sees Tubbo, about to walk away with Ranboo beside him. Sam can do nothing to stop this, the way Tubbo’s face falls as he stares at the boy in Sam’s arms. 

“ _No!_ ” Tubbo screams like he’s being torn in half. And maybe he is. He would’ve collapsed to the ground if not for Ranboo supporting him. “ _No! Please! Y-You can’t! He can’t–_ ” 

Sam would never forget the sound of Tubbo’s sobs. It is another nail in his coffin as he realizes the damage of one stupid decision. Sam could’ve let him out. _He_ made the rules and he could have broken them just as well. But he didn’t. Sam can still hear Tommy’s desperate words, begging him to be let out. He had _trusted_ Sam to look after him. 

There’s nothing he can do. He knows lingering with Tommy still in his arms– he’s so _cold_ and limp and still– will help no one, so he keeps walking. When he puts Tommy down in his home he realizes he’s shaking. Tears are misting the glass that covers the eyes of his mask. 

Sam hasn’t even shut the door behind him when someone is trying to knock him to the ground, furious fists pounding against his chest. 

“ _You promised me, Sam! You promised me!_ ” Tubbo is screaming himself hoarse, clawing at Sam like he can dig Tommy out from under his skin. “ _You fucking told me you were gonna keep him safe!_ ” 

“T-Tubbo!” Ranboo grabs his friend around the waist and drags him off. 

“ _How could you leave him?! How could you leave him alone with him?! He’s taken every one of his lives you fucking useless–_ ” Tubbo intends to wound and wound he does. 

Sam takes every word. 

“I-I know.” 

“Why is Dream still alive?!” Tubbo snarls, fighting Ranboo’s hold less viciously now. 

“I don’t know.” 

“You… You said you were gonna get him out,” Tubbo’s anger drains away and turns to pleading. “P-Please, Sam. You said you were gonna get him out.” 

“I couldn’t get to him in time,” Sam’s voice shakes and he doesn’t try to bury it anymore. “God, Tubbo– I am so sorry. I am _so_ sorry– This is all my fault–” 

“He’s…” Tubbo stops fighting, looking back to Ranboo, desperate tears refusing to relent. “H-He’s not coming back.” He says it like a fact and a question. 

“He’s not coming back.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi. im not coping.


End file.
